Connection
by IntravenousDollhouse
Summary: A page torn from the Melodious Nocturne's journal. As it turns out, he remembers quite a bit of his life as a Somebody. There are certain moments in life that just tend to stick with you. Warning: Adult Concepts!


Connection:

My first time was a gong show.

It was awkward, and stupid, and kind of bland. As Nobodies, we often idealize our past lives. I never did that with mine. I never made it out to be something it wasn't. As a Somebody, I was pathetic; useless to myself. Other people liked me more than they do now, but that just makes me feel bitter. As a Nobody, I don't lie as much. I don't necessarily tell people what they want to hear.

I have a fairly decent grasp on my memories as a Somebody, but only as decent a grasp as someone who naturally doesn't have a fantastic memory to begin with. I remember sporadic images, events, places and phases of my life. I remember certain people by their name, but not their face. Stuff like that.

The first and last time I had sex as a Somebody was right before I lost my heart. It was with a boy who was three years younger than me. I was more of a shell then than I am now, to be honest. I thought I was happy, but I was most certainly kidding myself. I had sex with that kid because I figured it would be honest. I wanted to have genuine sex with another boy who understood me. I thought he did. He didn't.

It didn't feel great. It didn't even feel tolerable, for the most part. There wasn't too much pain, surprisingly. I thought it would hurt a lot; I was looking forward to the pain, without realizing it. He came at me from all the wrong angles. I felt nauseous, like he was poking some random, tipped internal organ that wasn't supposed to be touched or utilized in any way. It felt horribly wrong. Like trying to fit the entire length of a pencil into your bellybutton. It also made me feel like I had to pee really bad. Dumb. Sick. It totally sucked. I pretended to be alright, letting the boy interpret my queasy, uncomfortable gasps as ones of pleasure. I don't know if that was actually what he thought, but if it wasn't, he let it slide.

I remember both his name, and his face. That's only because I knew him recently.

We got along alright. No arguments or anything. I didn't know him well enough to bother fighting with him or getting into any sort of debate. Even when he unwittingly and youthfully insulted me; wounding me deep enough to leave scars, I said nothing. I wish I had stood up for myself. That's a technique I'm still working on.

After the sex, I wanted to clean myself up in the bathroom of his fancy suburban household, but his parents were going to be home any moment and he said we needed to leave right away. I don't think his parents liked caucasians very much, and I was definitely what you could consider white trash.

So I ended up cleaning myself up in the public washroom of a nearby grocery store. It wasn't that I was all that dirty, after all, he'd used a towel to wipe my torso with immediately after he'd jacked himself off over me. I was disappointed by that also. I'd never seen another boy's spunk before. I don't think he could release inside of me, for whatever reason. Probably because I kept moving around and switching up the tempo. Must have messed with his groove or something. I wanted to try out random positions. I tried riding him, to be sexy, and then I just tried whatever would make me feel less nauseous; which was nothing. At one point, he just pounded into me for what seemed like a million years or something, but was probably only five minutes.

We talked and joked around afterwards, just like we had before we'd gotten down to business. I had made fun of the dumb posters in his room.

He bought tasteless, cold, real food from the grocery store, and I bought tasty, processed, artificial crap, and we sat outside for a little bit before I walked home. My house was a fifteen minute drive from his place, and an hour and a half long walk. I listened to music the entire walk back. My favorite remix for "Singing in the Rain." Interestingly enough, it sprinkled on me a bit. A hot, dry day, and it suddenly up and rained out of nowhere. I love the rain, but I looked pretty stupid when I finally got home. Wet from sweat and rainwater, I trudged into my house, where my girlfriend accosted me, wanting to know what I did with the boy that she knew I intended to screw.

She was depressed, because I had promised her that I would always be open and honest about my activities with other people, but I really, really didn't want to talk about it. I was itchy, and damp, and nauseous, and hungry for something warm and savory instead of sweet and empty. I took a swig from the muggy blue bubblegum flavored soda I had stashed in my backpack. I gave her the vaguest of descriptions, told her I loved her, didn't mention penetration, and that was that.

Now that I'm a Nobody, sex is only less awkward because I'm willing to be honest with myself about what I like and dislike. For instance, I'm not looking forward to having sex with Zexion, even though part of me wants it to happen. It's the submissive side of him. Something about it is irritating. I know he's usually dominant, and that despite his size, he's not one to go down easily. I know that he only wants to be dominated by me. I think I could handle that, if I knew he was a switch, but he seems to have given up on ever having any more courage or flexibility in a sexual way again. I think he had enough of it from other people. Well, maybe. All I know is that I'm stuck in a bit of a conundrum. Larxene is dominating, cruel, unapologetically perverse, and demanding. She's terribly exciting, and brutally honest. She scares me and depresses me, and challenges my attitude. It's awesome.

I just have a hard time getting past her body. I can appreciate feminine beauty. I understand the aesthetic appeal, to a certain extent, but I don't like the softness of her curves, or the quiver of her breasts, or the clammy, flabby cavern of her vagina.

Xigbar is a whole other story. He's older than me by a lot, which is a huge selling point in my book. I'm not sure if I don't care for younger guys now because of my first time or what, but I know that a higher age is sexy. He's intelligent, has an interesting sense of humor, visceral sex appeal, and a casual, alluring form of intimidation that I find totally fucking enchanting. I want to run my hands through his dual-shaded hair and press myself into his taut body and have him fuck me sitting down, with me positioned on his lap; as if he was my daddy.

Oh, wow. I never considered the possibility that I might have 'daddy issues.'

Thing is, Xigbar doesn't want me. It's not that I've been formally rejected by him or anything, but I know he thinks I'm too young for him, even though I'm a little bit past the age of consent. It makes me wonder exactly how old he really is. He refuses to talk about it when I ask.

Well, that's about all the sexual baggage I can toss into this journal entry. I wanted to plot out all my thoughts and have a good basis from which to examine my new life from. Build from the ground up, right?

Well, to my journal - and hopefully my journal alone - thanks for listening. You're the only one who doesn't laugh at me for believing in my own heart anymore. Without a heart, there is no intimacy, no honesty, and despite the gross, superficial way I've written this out, that's what this is really all about.

Intimacy, and honesty.

Connection.

If I can believe in the presence of my own heart, I can believe in the possibility for half-way decent sex.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. I wonder what the world would be like if random, strange, fiction-authors owned massively popular video games? (Hahahahahahahahaha; yeah, okay. Nomura is totally one of us).<p>

Author's Note: It's 4:35 AM right now, and I feel a bit dazed. This journal entry is definitely from Demyx's point of view. Not your happy, empty-headed, fan-based stereotype of Demyx either (at least, not precisely). I want to do more of these for Demyx. Piece together little bits of his past.


End file.
